Think it not loss of time a while to stay,
Though thy companions chide thy long delay;
Tho' summon'd to the seas, tho' pleasing gales
Invite thy course, and stretch thy swelling sails:
But beg the sacred priestess to relate
With willing words, and not to write thy fate.
The fierce Italian people she will show,
And all thy wars, and all thy future wo,
And what thou mayst avoid, and what must
undergo.

She shall direct thy course, instruct thy mind,
And teach thee how the happy shores to find.
This is what heav'n allows me to relate:
Now part in peace; pursue thy better fate,
And raise, by strength of arms, the Trojan
state."
[clar'd,
This when the priest with friendly voice de-
He gave me license, and rich gifts prepar'd;
Bounteous of treasure, he supplied my want
With heavy gold, and polish'd elephant,
Then Dodonæan caldrons put on board,
And ev'ry ship with sums of silver stor❜d.
A trusty coat of mail to me he sent,
Thrice chain'd with gold, for use and ornament;
The helm of Pyrrhus added to the rest,
That flourish'd with a plume and waving crest.
Nor was my sire forgotten, nor my friends:
And large recruits he to my navy sends-
Men, horses, captains, arms, and warlike
stores;

Supplies new pilots, and new sweeping oars.
Meantime, my sire commands to hoist our sails,
Lest we should lose the first auspicious gales.
The prophet bless'd the parting crew, and last,
With words like these, his ancient friend em-
brac'd:

"Old happy man, the care of gods above, Whom heav'nly Venus honour'd with her love, And twice preserv'd thy life when Troy was lost!

Behold from far the wish'd Ausonian coast:
There land; but take a larger compass round;
For that before is all forbidden ground.
The shore that Phoebus has design'd for
you,
At further distance lies, conceal'd from view.
Go happy hence, and seek your new abodes,
Bless'd in a son, and favour'd by the gods:
For I with useless words prolong your stay
When southern gales have summon'd you
away."
[plor'd,
Nor less the queen our parting thence de-
Nor was less bounteous than her Trojan lord.
A noble present to my son she brought;

A robe with flow'rs on golden tissue wrought.
A Phrygian vest; and loads with gifts beside
Of precious texture, and of Asian pride. [love,
"Accept," she said, "these monuments of
Which in my youth with happier hands I wove :

Regard these trifles for the giver's sake;
'Tis the last present Hector's wife can make,
Thou call'st my lost Astyanax to mind:
In thee, his features and his form I find.
His eyes so sparkled with a lively flame;
Such were his motions; such was all his frame;
And ah! had heav'n so pleas'd, his years had
been the same."

With tears I took my last adieu, and said,
"Your fortune, happy pair, already made,
Leaves you no further wish. My dif'rent state,
Avoiding one, incurs another fate.
To you a quiet seat the gods allow :
You have no shores to search, no seas to plough:
Nor fields of flying Italy to chase-
Deluding visions, and a vain embrace :
You see another Simois, and enjoy
The labour of your hands, another Troy,
With better auspice than her ancient tow're
And less obnoxious to the Grecian pow'rs.
If e'er the gods, whom I with vows adore,
Conduct my steps to Tyber's happy shore-
If ever I ascend the Latian throne,
And build a city I may call my own
As both of us our birth from Troy derive,
So let our kindred lines in concord live,
And both in acts of equal friendship strive.
Our fortunes, good or bad, shall be the same:
The double Troy shall differ but in name:
That what we now begin, may never end,
But long to late posterity descend." [bore-

Near the Ceraunian rocks our course we The shortest passage to th' Italian shore. Now had the sun withdrawn his radiant light, And hills were hid in dusky shades of night: We land, and, on the bosom of the ground, A safe retreat and a bare lodging found. Close by the shore we lay; the sailors keep Their watches, and the rest securely sleep. The night, proceeding on with silent pace, Stood in her noon, and view'd with equal face Her steepy rise, and her declining race. Then wakeful Palinurus rose, to spy The face of heav'n, and the nocturnal sky; And listen'd ev'ry breath of air to try; Observes the stars, and notes their sliding

course,

The Pleiads, Hyads, and their wat❜ry force;
And both the Bears is careful to behold,
And bright Orion, arm'd with burnish'd gold.
Then, when he saw no threat' ning tempest
nigh,

But a sure promise of a settled sky,

He gave the sign to weigh, we break our sleep, Forsake the pleasing shore, and plough the deep.

And now the rising morn with rosy light Adorns the skies, and puts the stars to flight

When we from far, like bluish mist, descry
The hills, and then the plains of Italy.
Achates first pronounc'd the joyful sound;
Then "Italy" the cheerful crew rebound ;
My sire Anchises crown'd a cup with wine,
And off'ring, thus implor'd the pow'rs divine:
"Ye gods, presiding over lands and seas,
And you who raging winds and waves appease,
Breathe on our swelling sails a prosp'rous wind,
And smooth our passage to the port assign'd."
The gentle gales their flagging force renew;
And now the happy harbour is in view.
Minerva's temple then salutes our sight,
Plac'd, as a landmark, on the mountain's
height.

We furl our sails, and turn the prows to shore;
The curling waters round the galleys roar.
The land lies open to the raging East,
Then, bending like a bow, with rocks com-
press'd,

Shuts out the storms; the winds and waves complain,

And vent their malice on the cliffs in vain.
The port lies hid within; on either side,
Two tow'ring rocks the narrow mouth divide.
The temple, which aloft we view'd before,
To distance flies, and seems to shun the shore.
Scarce landed, the first omens I beheld
Were four white steeds that cropp'd the flow'ry
field.

"War, war, is threaten'd from this foreign
ground,
[found.
(My father cried,) where warlike steeds are
Yet, since, reclaim'd, to chariots they submit,
And bend to stubborn yokes, and champ the bit,
Peace may succeed to war."-Our way we bend
To Pallas, and the sacred hill ascend;
There prostrate to the fierce virago pray,
Whose temple was the landmark of our way.
Each with a Phrygian mantle veil'd his head,
And all commands of Helenus obey'd,
And pious rites to Grecian Juno paid.

Then thus Anchises, in experience old 'Tis that Charybdis which the seer foretold, And those the promis'd rocks! Bear off to

ses

With haste the frighted mariners obey.
First Palinurus to the larboard veer'd;
Then all the fleet by his example steer'd.
To heav'n aloft on ridgy waves we ride,
Then down to hell descend, when they divide:
And thrice our galleys knock'd the stony ground,
And thrice the hollow rocks return'd the sound,
And thrice we saw the stars that stood with

dews around.

The flagging winds forsook us with the sun;
And, wearied, on Cyclopian shores we run.
The port, capacious and secure from wind,
Is to the foot of thund'ring Etna join'd.
By turns a pitchy cloud she rolls on high;
By turns hot embers from her entrails fly,
And flakes of mountain flames that lick the
sky.

Oft from her bowels massy rocks are thrown,
And, shiver'd by the force, come piecemeal

down:

Oft liquid lakes of burning sulphur flow,
Fed from the fiery springs that boil below.
Enceladus, they say, transfix'd by Jove,
With blasted limbs came tumbling from above,
And, where he fell, th' avenging father drew
This flaming hill, and on his body threw.
As often as he turns his weary sides,
He shakes the solid isle, and smoke the hea-
vens hides.

In shady woods we pass the tedious night, Where bellowing sounds and groans our souls affright,

Of which no cause is offer'd to the sight.
For not one star was kindled in the sky,
Nor could the moon her borrow'd light supply
For misty clouds involv'd the firmament;
The stars were muffled, and the moon was pent.
Scarce had the rising sun the day reveal'd;

When from the woods, their bolts before our sight,

Somewhat betwixt a mortal and a sprite,
So thin, so ghastly meager, and so wan,
So bare of flesh, he scarce resembled man.
This thing, all tatter'd, seem'd from far t' im-
plore

Our pious aid, and pointed to the shore.
We look behind; then view his shaggy beard:
His clothes were tagg'd with thorns; and filth
his limbs besmear'd.

The rest, in mien, in habit, and in face,
Appear'd a Greek; and such indeed he was.
He cast on us, from far, a frightful view,
Whom soon for Trojans and for foes he knew

Stood still and paus'd; then all at once began
To stretch his limbs, and trembled as he ran.
Soon as approach'd, upon his knees he falls,
And thus with tears and sighs for pity calls:
"Now, by the powers above, and what we
share

From nature's common gift, this vital air,
O Trojans, take me hence! I beg no more,
But bear me far from this unhappy shore.
'Tis true, I am a Greek, and further own,
Among your foes besieg'd the imperial town.
For such demerits if my death be due,
No more for this abandon'd life I sue:
This only favour let my tears obtain,
To throw me headlong in the rapid main:
Since nothing more than death my crime de-

mands

I die content, to die by human hands."
He said, and on his knees my knees embrac'd:
I bade him boldly tell his fortune past,
His present state, his lineage, and his name,
Th' occasion of his fears, and whence he came.
The good Anchises rais'd him with his hand,
Who, thus encourag'd, answer'd our demand:
"From Ithaca, my native soil, I came
To Troy; and Achaemenides my name.
Me my poor father with Ulysses sent;
(O! had I stay'd, with poverty content!)
But fearful for themselves, my countrymen
Left me forsaken in the Cyclop's den.
The cave, though large, was dark; the dismal
floor

Was pav'd with mangled limbs and putrid gore.
Our monstrous host, of more than human size,
Erects his head, and stares within the skies.
Bellowing his voice, and horrid is his hue.
Ye gods, remove this plague from mortal view!
The joints of slaughter'd wretches are his food,
And for his wine he quaffs the streaming blood.
These eyes beheld, when with his spacious hand
He seiz'd two captives of our Grecian band;
Stretch'd on his back, he dash'd against the

stones

Their broken bodies, and their crackling bones:
With spouting blood the purple pavement
swims,
[limbs.
While the dire glutton grinds the trembling
Not unreveng'd Ulysses bore their fate,
Nor thoughtless of his own unhappy state;
For, gorg'd with flesh, and drunk with human
wine,

While fast asleep the giant lay supine,
Snoring aloud, and belching from his maw
His indigested foam, and morsels raw-
We pray, we cast the lots, and then surround
The monstrous body, stretch'd along the ground:
Each, as he could approach him, lends a hand,
To bore his eyeball with a flaming brand.

Beneath his frowning forehead lay his eye;
For only one did the vast frame supply-
But that a globe so large, his front it fill'd,
Like the sun's disk, or like a Grecian shield.
The stroke succeeds; and down the pupil bends:
This vengeance follow'd for our slaughter'd
friends.-

But haste, unhappy wretches! haste to fly!
Your cables cut, and on your oars rely!
Such and so vast as Polypheme appears,
A hundred more this hated island bears:
Like him, in caves, they shut their woolly sheep,
Like him, their herds on tops of mountains keep;
Like him, with mighty strides, they stalk from
[new,

steep to steep.

And now three moons their sharpen'd horns reSince thus in woods and wilds, obscure from

view,

I drag my loathsome days with mortal fright,
And in deserted caverns lodge by night;
Oft from the rocks a dreadful prospect see,
Of the huge Cyclops, like a walking tree:
From far I hear his thund'ring voice resound,
And trampling feet that shake the solid ground.
Cornels, and savage berries of the wood,
And roots and herbs,have been my meager food.
While all around my longing eyes I cast,
I saw your happy ships appear at last.
On those I fix'd my hopes, to these I run:
"Tis all I ask, this cruel race to shun.
What other death you please, yourselves be-
stow."
[brow

Scarce had he said, when on the mountain's
We saw the giant shepherd stalk before
His following flock, and leading to the shore-
A monstrous bulk, deform'd, depriv'd of sight;
His staff a trunk of pine, to guide his steps
aright.

His pond'rous whistle from his neck descends.
His woolly care their pensive lord attends:
This only solace his hard fortune sends,
Soon as he reach'd the shore, and touch'd the

waves

From his bor'd eye the glutt'ring blood he laves:
He gnash'd his teeth, and groan'd: through seas
he strides ;
[sides.
And scarce the topmost billows touch'd his
Seiz'd with a sudden fear, we run to sea,
The cables cut and silent haste away;
The well-deserving stranger entertain; [main.
Then, buckling to the work, our oars divide the
The giant hearken'd to the dashing sound:
But, when our vessels out of reach he found,
He strided onward, and in vain essay'd
Th' Ionian deep, and durst no farther wade.
With that he roar'd aloud: the dreadful cry
Shakes earth and air and seas; the billows fly,
Before the bellowing noise, to distant Italy.

The neighb'ring Etna trembling all around,
The winding caverns echo to the sound.
His brother Cyclops hear the yelling roar,
And rushing down the mountains, crowd the
shore.

We saw their stern distorted looks from far,
And one-ey'd glance, that vainly threaten'd

war

A dreadful council! with their heads on high
(The misty clouds about their foreheads fly)
Not yielding to the tow'ring tree of Jove,
Or tallest cypress of Diana's grove.
New pangs of mortal fear our minds assail;
We tug at ev'ry oar, and hoist up ev'ry sail,
And take th' advantage of the friendly gale.
Forewarn'd by Helenus, we strive to shun
Charybdis' gulf, nor dare to Scylla run.
An equal fate on either side appears:
We, tacking to the left, are free from fears:
For, from Pelorus' point, the north arose,
And drove us back where swift Pantagias flows.
His rocky mouth we pass; and make our way
By Thapsus, and Megara's winding bay.
This passage Achæmenides had shown,
Tracing the course which he before had run.
Right o'er against Plemmyrium's wat'ry strand,
There lies an isle, once call'd th' Ortygian
land.

Alpheus, as old fame reports, has found

From Greece a secret passage under ground,
By love to beauteous Arethusa led;
And, mingling here, they roll in the same sa-
cred bed.

As Helenus enjoin'd, we next adore
Diana's name, protectress of the shore.
With prosp'rous gales we pass the quiet sounds
Of still Helorus, and his fruitful bounds.
Then, doubling cape Pachynus, we survey
The rocky shore extended to the sea.
The town of Camarine from far we see,
And fenny lake, undrain'd by Fate's decree.
In sight of the Geloan fields we pass,
And the large walls, where mighty Gela was;
Then Agragas, with lofty summits crown'd,
Long for the race of warlike steeds renown.'d."
We pass'd Selinus, and the palmy land,
And widely shun the Lilybæan strand,
Unsafe for secret rocks and moving sand.
At length on shore the weary fleet arriv'd,
Which Drepanum's unhappy port receiv'd.
Here, after endless labours, often toss'd
By raging storms, and driv'n on ev'ry coast,
My dear, dear father spent with age, I lost-
Ease of my cares, and solace of my pain,
Sav'd through a thousand toils, but sav'd in
vain.

The prophet, who my future woes reveal'd,
Yet this, the greatest and the worst, conceal'd:

And dire Celano, whose foreboding skill
Denounc'd all else, was silent of this ill.
This my last labour was. Some friendly god
From thence convey'd us to your blest abode.'

Thus to the list'ning queen, the royal guest His wand'ring course and all his toils express'd, And here concluding, he retir'd to rest.

BOOK IV.

ARGUMENT.

Dido discovers to her sister her passion for Æneas, and her thoughts of marrying him. She prepares a hunting match for his entertainment. Juno, by Venus's consent, raises a storm, which separates the hunters, and drives Eneas and Dido into the same cave, where their marriage is supposed to be completed. Jupiter despatches Mercury to Æneas, to warn him from Carthage. Eneas secretly prepares for his voyage. Dido finds out his design, and, to put a stop to it, makes use of her own and her sister's entreaties, and discovers all the vari ety of passions that are incident to a neglected lover. When nothing could prevail upon him, she contrives her own death, with which this book concludes.

Bur anxious cares already seiz'd the queen:
She fed within her veins a flame unseen;
The hero's valour, acts, and birth, inspire
Her soul with love, and fan the secret fire.
His words, his looks, imprinted in her heart,
Improve the passion, and increase the smart.
Now, when the purple morn had chas'd away
The dewy shadows, and restor'd the day,
Her sister first with early care she sought,
And thus in mournful accents eas'd her thought:
"My dearest Anna! what new dreams affright
My lab'ring soul! what visions of the night
Disturb my quiet, and distract my breast
With strange ideas of our Trojan guest!
His worth, his actions, and majestic air,
A man descended from the gods declare.
Fear ever argues a degen'rate kind :
His birth is well asserted by his mind.
Then, what he suffer'd when by Fate betray'd,
What brave attempts for falling Troy he made.
Such were his looks, so gracefully he spoke,
That, were I not resolv'd against the yoke
Of hapless marriage-never to be curs'd
With second love, so fatal was my first-
To this one error I might yield again :
For, since Sichæus was untimely slain,
This only man is able to subvert
The fix'd foundations of my stubborn heart.
And, to confess my frailty to my shame,
Somewhat I find within, if not the same,
Too like the sparkles of my former flame.
But first let yawning earth a passage rend,
And let me through the dark abyss descend-

First let avenging Jove, with flames from high,
Drive down this body to the nether sky,
Condemn'd with ghosts in endless night to lie
Before I break the plighted faith I gave !
No! he who had my vows, shall ever have:
For, whom I lov'd on earth, I worship in the
grave."

She said: the tears ran gushing from her eyes, And stopp'd her speech. Her sister thus replies:

"O, dearer than the vital air I breathe!
Will you to grief your blooming years bequeath,
Condemn'd to waste in woes your lonely life,
Without the joys of mother, or of wife!
Think you these tears, this pompous train of wo,
Are known or valu'd by the ghosts below?
I grant that while your sorrows yet were green,
It well became a woman, and a queen,
The vows of Tyrian princes to neglect,
To scorn Iarbas, and his love reject.
With all the Libyan lords of mighty name :
But will you fight against a pleasing flame?
This little spot of land which heav'n bestows,
On ev'ry side is hemm'd with warlike foes:
Gætulian cities here are spread around,
And fierce Numidians there your frontiers
bound:

Here lies a barren waste of thirsty land,
And there the Syrtes raise the moving sand:
Barcæan troops besiege the narrow shore,
And from the sea Pygmalion threatens more.
Propitious heav'n, and gacious Juno, lead
This wand'ring navy to your needful aid:
How will your empire spread, your city rise,
From such a union, and with such allies!
Implore the favour of the pow'rs above;
And leave the conduct of the rest of love.
Continue still your hospitable way,
And still invent occasions of their stay,
Till storms and winter winds thall cease to
threat,

And planks and oars repair their shatter'd fleet."

These words, which from a friend and sis

And, while the priests with pray'r the gods in voke,

She feeds their altars with Sabæan smoke,
With hourly care the sacrifice renews,
And anxiously the panting entrails views.
What priestly rites, alas! what pious art,
What vows avail to cure a bleeding heart?
A gentle fire she feeds within her veins,
Where the soft god secure in silence reigns.

Sick with desire, and seeking him she loves, From street to street the raving Dido roves. So, when the watchful shepherd, from the blind, Wounds with a random shaft the careless hind, Distracted with her pain she flies the woods, Bounds o'er the lawn, and seeks the silent floods

With fruitless care; for still the fatal dart
Sticks in her side, and rankles in her heart.
And now she leads the Trojan chief along
The lofty walls, amidst the busy throng;
Displays her Tyrian wealth, and rising town,
Which love, without his labour, makes his own.
This pomp she shows, to tempt her wand'ring

guest;

Her fault'ring tongue forbids to speak the rest.
When day declines, and feasts renew the night,
Still on his face she feeds her famish'd sight;
She longs again to hear the prince relate
His own adventures, and the Trojan fate.
He tells it o'er and o'er; but still in vain,
For still she begs to hear it once again.
The hearer on the speaker's mouth depends:
And thus the tragic story never ends.

[light

Then, when they part, when Phoebe's paler Withdraws, and falling stars to sleep invite She last remains, when ev'ry guest is gone, Sits on the bed he press'd, and sighs alone Absent, her absent hero sees and hears; Or in her bosom young Ascanius bears, And seeks the father's image in the child, If love by likeness might be so beguil'd.

Meantime the rising tow'rs are at a stand; No labours exercise the youthful band, Nor use of arts, nor toils of arms, they know; The mole is left unfinish'd to the foe; The mounds, the works, the walls, neglected lie, Short of their promis'd height, that seem'd to threat the sky.

But when imperial Juno, from above, Saw Dido fetter'd in the chains of love, Hot with the venom which her veins inflam'd, And by no sense of shame to be reclaim'd, With soothing words to Venus she begun: "High praises, endless honours, you have won, And mighty trophies, with your worthy son! Two gods a silly woman have undone! Nor am I ignorant, you both suspect This rising city, which my hands erect: